Later in the day, my mother noticed that my grandfather was still surrounded by these medical instruments. “What’s all this in here, Dad?” she wondered as she cleared away the refuse. “Those are my friends,” he replied.
Months after we started dating, the realization that I’d forgotten how to draw would come too late and breed resentment. And yet always I persisted, too scared to walk through the small campus without him, always falling back into a love that made me feel guilty yet safe in its comfort and dysfunction.
Having never been one to fantasize about princess-dom, Cinderella being my least favorite of the fairy tales, and not currently in possession of a boyfriend, much less a fiancé, you can see where my sudden preoccupation with invitations and veils (or lack thereof) and engagement rings might raise some red flags.